Haunted
by Simsim1705
Summary: When wierd things start happening inexplicably at dance camp, Anzu begins to panic. He was supposed to be gone! Wasn't he...? YB X ANZU
1. Camp, here I come!

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' ' **Haunted** ' '

* * *

School with Ryou Bakura had been…interesting… to say the least

School with Ryou Bakura had been…_interesting_… to say the least. Whispered rumors and far-fetched speculations haunted the halls in his wake. He couldn't glance upwards without there being some sort of buzz on it, or a freshman girl ranting off to her poor diary about it. He was a sort of akward celebrity at the shcool; he had never wanted he attention.

Anzu's faith in people was unshakeable, yet she couldn't help but notice that indeed whenever Ryou Bakura was near, things always turned down an eerie route.

He had entered the lives of the students of Domino High as an exchange student, around the middle of her freshman year. It had been about right after semester break. Soft spoken, sweet, and impossibly shy, Ryou had no trouble charming the entire school faculty. Compared to the rowdy roughnecks trademark to his grade, he was a treasured rarity. His quaint courtesy had drawn girls to him like flies to honey.

Anzu assumed that so sweet a boy would naturally fall as prey to the social Darwinism of high school. Surprisingly, any creditable thug avoided him like _sin_. Oddest of oddities, one could often find Ryou Bakura eating his lunch alone, at some remote bench eons away from the hubbub of the lunch hour, save for a few first years eyeing him coyly from a few seats away. But never next to him. Bakura tended to keep to himself; trying earnestly to not gain familiarity with his fellow students. She couldn't ever recall him being a part of a school function, and she most certainly didn't remember him ever having a romantic interest. On the contrary, he preferred to limit all his relationships to nothing further than mere acquaintances. The people she would say he was closest to, as eerie as it was, would be her own cozy clique of down-to-earth misfits, and they hardly ever saw him as far as that stood.

She could only remember one instance where someone had the gall to pick on poor, defenseless little Ryou. It was back in her sophomore year, the very beginning. The guy had cornered him at the end of a hall and fired some snarky remark, and gathered a crowd around them. Anzu was debating whether to defend him or simply walk away and let him fight his own battles when he did something very intesting. Ryou Bakura had _**smiled**_. Yes, _**smiled**_.

And the strange thing was: it had chilled her to the bone. He had frozen dead in his tracks, perfectly silent, and it seemed as though the entire crowd held its breath. She had felt the nigh tangible tension practically buzzing in the air between the two boys. Suddenly, he glanced over his shoulder. For a **heartbeat**, she could have sworn she saw a **wild**, _dangerous_ glint in his eye. She remembered her heart had hitched in her chest; she had been scared beyond words. And she couldn't for the life of her figure out why.

Yet as soon as it had come, it had gone, and the saintly cherub glided along his humble way, leaving the crowd frozen in his wake. It had been a strange spectacle, really.

The next day, the **boy** was **gone**.

No one had heard from him. His parents called the police station crying, claiming he'd never come home. His friends reported that he had set for home not too long after basketball practice. What happened in between…. Well…

She had an inkling a certain _someone_ knew. And that's when she'd took to keeping herself as far from him as the width of the school grounds and Yugi's hyperactive need for friendship would permit.

And that's when it began, devouring the school like wildfire. People began to fear him. Stark, unadulterated fear. Quite apparently bizarre, seeing the angel he seemed to be, but fear him they did; and they still feared him, stiffening at the sheer mention of his name; claiming the innocent charm of his sparkling brown eyes could instantly be lost within the remorseless hatred of his glare.

His fan girls, of course, waved these half-brained theories off as steams of jealousy. Clearly, they argued, the fact that he was unable to ask to borrow a _pencil _without trembling was evidence enough.

So yet he remained a heartthrob with the girls and a seraph to the elders.

But there were tales that haunted the halls.

Chilling tales of those who lived to tell them.

They swear on their lives, that they've seen him, pale as a ghost, lurking in the shadows in the deadest hours of the night.

Those poor souls cursed to cross paths with him on a day upon which his dangerous temper was unleashed lay under the flowerbeds today.

….Or so they _said_.

Now Anzu agreed that for some reason, he made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end whenever he entered a room, but she still kept her wits about her.

According to her crew, a particularly strange group, strange but happy, residing deep within the outlandish, gaudy, tasteless gold bauble he wore strung around his neck, was a dark entity burning with murderous intent.

Yami Bakura.

He exploited poor Ryou, abusing him as a vessel through which to execute his dirty deeds. He would posses him when he chose, where he chose, and would not be questioned about it.

Anzu thought it incredulous. She told Yugi it broke all the laws of their very world and could not possibly be. Maybe Yugi housed a reincarnated Pharaoh, _**maybe**_. But some random evil spirit that corrupted little boys?!

Yet she couldn't help but to cringe at the thought of him.

There was such an unnerving air about him; cold and heartless; like an icy winter wind whipping at her cheeks...

He had **trapped** her one day. The very last day of her senior year. On the second story balcony, after the bell had chimed, and everyone had exchanged farewells, ad hugs, and tears…

He had murmured something; and before she could even comprehend-- he had vanished without a trace. She had scoured the grounds after overcoming the her shock, her fear, of encountering him alone, but he was gone.

And what he said, those words-- indecipherable!! Absolute rubbish, when she thought about it. Yet she felt instinctively they held some hidden meaning… They rang in her ears, clawing at the back of her mind to be unlocked, decrypted, cracked open….

What had he **meant**?! What did he **want** with her!?

Anzu shook the morbid musings from her head; trim, auburn locks whirling around her.

It was **over**.

The Pharaoh was gone, and they had all gone their separate ways.

There was no more to the eerie path she had once been walking on. It was a dead end.

No more.

She would focus on her life. Do all those things she made lists about but nevr quite got to doing. She'd explore her interests, call up some old friends, maybe hit some parties, live it up a little. She'd milk this summer for all it was worth.

And when she left for dance camp in a few weeks; everything would go back to normal.

As normal as normal would get.

For _her_.

' ' xoxoxoxoxoxoxooxoxoxoxoxooxoxoxoxooxoxox ' '

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XDDD Yeah, you can probably tell I've had a lot of fun with the bold and underline functions...

I have a lot of ideas for where I'm gong with this story. I actually was inspired by a book, so I have a solid outline. just expect Anzu to be slightly more mature, and less gullible. I mean she's eight-friggin-teen by this time, so she'll be prepared for YB.

Or won't she?

Heh!! **R&R please**! Constructive crit.'s always appreciated.


	2. Senseless Paranoia

She surveyed the area nervously.

It seemed so chillingly lifeless; void of the smallest rustle, the quietest twittering, the slightest breath.

Not once had a sweeping gust playfully tousled her dark tresses.

The entire premises was nothing more than dense woodland, but a long way off, atop grassy hills, she could barely make out the glaring red roof of a barn; a siren amidst a sea of green.

_Who the hell would put a bus stop here? In some God forsaken..._

The deserted road lay before her quietly.

It was so weathered, one couldnt identify the roads end and the chaparrals beginning. Battered by the wind and worn by the rain, the asphalt had been grounded to a pale, ashen gray. Years of abandonment had proven to be no less detrimental.

Anzu sincerely wished she had taken up her nagging mother on her offer; any companion would provide comfort to you now. She plucked a bubblegum pink cell phone from her pocket, (the last one having been brutally crushed by Malik's rare hunters) and snorted in ridicule.

_No cell phone service...of course... You'd think for the price we had to pay they'd care SOMEWHAT for their campers...  
_  
She slipped a stray wisp of hair behind her ear, peering down the road.

Nothing.

Strangely enough, though not a breeze sang through the air, it seemed to have gotten colder. Unfastening her suitcase, she nosily rummaged around for her gray sweater, hoping the source of _**some**_ sound would make the area seem less...

...picture perfect for one of those serialkiller movies where the guy hacks up his victims and lobbs them in the woods.

Anzu heard it the second time; tensing instantly.

The loud crack of a twig.

As if someone had stepped upon it.

Immediately her heart began throbbing tempestuously. The edges of Anzu's vision blurred with frenzied panic. Exhaling slowly to steady herself, she glanced over her shoulder. The ends of her lips curled into a delicate frown.

As expected.

Nothing, but the underbrush.

Anzu was irritated with her senseless paranoia now. The albino kelptomaniac, resident "King of Thieves", had gotten to her. He was plucking gleefully at her brittle tendrils of nerves. She swore if she ever saw him she would...

_This is a government certified camp; one of the most prestigious in the nation!! I was lucky even to be chosen from the thousands that applied for to be camp counselors! I'm sure they have everything under control!! Its not like they haven't done this before!!  
_

She yanked out her sweater and slipped it on. The brunette sighed. She'd better find a productive way to pass the time, she figured, fetching her itenerary and leafing through it sullenly.

She heard it again; yet this time it was louder; as if to snatch her attention. Forcing herself to ignore it, she grimaced involuntarily and continued to study the guidelines, if one would call it studying. Her eyes may have glimpsed each and every letter; but within the confines of her frantic state it all meant nothing.

_Twigs Anzu, they're twigs...twigs are normal in a forest aren't they?  
_  
Tardiness wasnt part of camp policy. In fact, it was against it. So WHERE was the bus!?!?!?

SNAP!

_Come on damn it, COME ON!!!_

She gripped the itenerary harder, shallow breath rasping out of her.

**SNAP!**

Suddenly, she heard the pounding footsteps of a sprinting gait. Someone screamed, and an enormous object sprang out before her.

Succumbing to natural instinct, she leapt back, shrieking-- only to loose her footing and hurtle into the chaparral. Seized by a firm embrace, she calculated, with _utter_ horrification, that she had landed in someones arms...


	3. From Dust to Dust

She screamed bloody murder.

It had all happened so fast; a blur, the scream, falling… Where was she?

"You're a lucky girl, Mazaki," a voice, smooth as honey, purred in her ear. The pleasant baritone worked wonders over her shot nerves, soothed her erratic heartbeat. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but there was something so utterly familiar about the sound, some blurred detail screaming in the back of her mind for attention… it hovered just over the tip of her tongue.

"T-thanks-s," she stammered. What _was_ it?

He offered a hand, silhouetted against the noonday sun. Shielding her eyes with her left, she accepted his help with her right, struggling to place a name to that enthralling voice…

"Duke?! This is dance camp you hentai!!" she scolded good-naturedly.

He flashed her a dazzling smile, batting his eyelashes in mock effeminacy. "How else would I keep this fabulous body in shape? Swimsuit season is right around the corner! I'm actually here on a business services internship. Pays well, looks good for college, and I'd be swamped with girls with skimpy little tutu's so I figure…"

She punched his shoulder playfully. "You haven't changed at all, you perv."

He shrugged, grinning. "Seriously though, why the hell were you standing in the middle of the road? Ever since that whole Battle City freak show I've come to identified all of Yugi's little playmates as a few bricks short of the load, but still..."

It was unfortunate she had missed her true, blue friend's heartfelt greeting while she had her attention captivated by the dark tire marks scarring the cracked pavement where she had stood only heartbeats ago. The bus had screeched to a halt a ways off the road. Luckily, her dancer's reflexes had kicked in, throwing her back into the bushes. It chilled her to the bone, staring at what would have been, given a second longer, the site of her very last breath. An ominous omen, her talisman-bearing, black-cat-phobic grandmother would have declared, before fetching some incense to burn in a plea for the ancestors protection. Anzu never dared to ask dear grammy how she expected her distant relatives to be of any use from six feet under. Yet she did find herself morbidly wondering what it would be like to witness such a spectacle: to see yourself die, before your very eyes.

A hand clamped down on her shoulder, jerking her from her dark musings. "You're just one of those brats that needs to be the center of attention, aren't you?" Duke jibed warmly. Sending him a quizzical look, Anzu adjusted to the setting around her. The bus driver legs stuck out awkwardly from underneath the car, taking inventory of the damage. A few students whose nerves were still intact had gotten off the bus to stretch; the remaining pairs of eyes were locked on her.

Anzu turned quickly away to hunt for her scattered bags. If she hated anything, it was being forced into the limelight. The first lesson stage performance had taught her was that the audience thrived off of secrets. A rare few intellectuals actually assessed a performance for its artistic quality. Most simply were there to watch comedian forget his lines, or catch the magician's sleight of hand. That's why she had pitied Yugi, for example. The fans, the fame, the fortune, was worth nothing if it meant sacrificing her pride and privacy.

Being the playboy he was, Duke was well-attuned to the subtleties of the female psyche. He cut in smoothly, bags in tow.

"Let's get you on the bus shall we?" he asked, smirking. "It's just like you to mooch off of my popularity, goldigger."

She rolled her eyes, unable to stop the smile from blossoming across her face, and silently thanked his sense timing. That was twice he'd saved her now.

Hopefully, there would be no need for a third.


End file.
